


a very, merry unbirthday

by ciaconnaa



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: EVERYONE LIVES bitchez, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, inspired by rdj's post of that take where tony smacks a kiss to his son peter's head, thanks for that bro I needed it, tony is irondad that's all you gotta know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: “What’s all this, huh?” Peter asks. His eyes don’t leave the table as he wanders over to stand by where Tony is sitting, wrapping him in a gentle hug and pushing his head into his chest. Tony smiles before he tugs gently on the sleeve. Peter gets the message and leans down, allowing Tony to kiss his temple in greeting.“You threw me a birthday party,” Peter accuses, smile going all dopey.“An unbirthday party,” Morgan corrects. “Like in Alice in Wonderland. For all the ones you missed!”





	a very, merry unbirthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostysunflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/gifts).



> happy belated birthday mister stark!!!! I guess it really is an unbirthday, huh? hah!

As Tony finishes icing the top of the funfetti cake, Morgan finally succeeds in popping off the last plastic gem in her princess tiara.

“Yes!” she cheers under her breath as she sets it aside with the others - now, a total of six. The screwdriver he let her use clatters noisily on the counter when she shoves it aside without care. “I’ve collected all the rainbow stones.” She starts mumbling what kinds she thinks they all are as she puts them in a neat pile: ruby, sapphire, emerald, topaz, amber, amethyst. “Can I put them on the cake?”

Tony picks up the cake stand with his arm - his only arm - and turns it left and right. “Let’s see.” The cake nearly slides off when he leans it a bit down so she can see it. “Did I ice it all?”

Morgan tilts her head and leans forward from her perch on the kitchen island, swiping the bottom of the cake with her finger. Her grin is sinister as she pops the stolen icing in her mouth. “No.”

Tony sets the cake down before he takes his own finger and swipes it in the icing can - he manages to cover her chin before she squirms away, a mess of giggles and mischief. “Oh, look at that. You missed a spot shaving this morning.”

She tries to lick it off with her tongue and the sight has Tony laughing a little too loudly at 7:04 in the morning. He takes a wet rag and wipes her face before he fixes the bottom of the cake with the last of the icing. But when he hands over the canister of sprinkles it all goes to shit. No rags can save them from the mess his daughter makes when she tears the top off, turns it completely upside down, and dumps the _whole jumbo box of rainbow sprinkles_ onto the center of the cake. There are so many sprinkles, in fact, that Tony can reach in and pick up a handful from what is a literal volcano of sugar that hasn’t stuck to the icing. When he tries to do just that, Morgan slaps his hand away.

“Careful,” he teases, holding his hand to his chest like it’s wounded. “I only got one of these left.”

The joke goes right over her head; she's too busy looking at the funfetti cake with such concentration one might think it’s a painting on the Sistine Chapel. She has the yellow plastic gem in her hand, rubbing her thumb over it, before she picks a spot on the cake by the edge. Luckily, she’s a lot more precise with the gem placement than she was the sprinkles, and they all go in a circle on the edge of the cake, carefully spaced.

When she puts the last on down, the red gem from the center of her tiara, she looks up at Tony and says, “You said you’d bring me the red one.”

Tony sputters out another laugh, muffles behind a mouthful of icing as he cleans off the icing container with his finger. As soon as Morgan had heard about the time travel, the fight with the Thanos, the snap that brought everyone back, all five year old Morgan cared about was that Daddy had really cool shiny stones to play with on his trip _but didn’t bring any back for her as a souvenir._

“I needed it,” she whines a little. “For my cool treasure chest when we play pirates versus mermaids. I had a place to bury by the lake and _everything.”_

Yeah, Tony can sympathize with that. Infinity Stones make very cool pirate booty. “I tried, babe, I really did. Couldn’t get it through customs.”

Morgan hums her disbelief as Tony sets the funfetti cake up with the other four cakes he spent the early hours of the morning making. They take up all the space on the counter, and Tony thinks he might slip into a diabetic coma just looking at it all. Morgan, on the other hand, looks like she might die of happiness. Her eyes keep darting between all five cakes, like she doesn’t know which cake she’s going to eat first.

It’s going to be a pretty good day.

Tony starts passing her the candles. He thought about doing those big numbered candles, for practicality, but that seemed stupid. Everything he’s ever done has been impractical; hell, this very idea and concept of _today_ is over the top. Why draw the line at birthday candles?

“Seventeen on this one, darling.” His hand hovers over the funfetti cake. “Not one more, not one less. Got it?”

“Got it!”

Thankfully, Morgan is just as meticulous with the candles as she was the gems. In the time it takes her to get all seventeen on the cake, Tony’s finished with the rest: eighteen on the red velvet, nineteen on the lemon, twenty on the chocolate and twenty-one on the rum cake.

Five birthday cakes for five missed birthdays.

“Can we finish setting up the tea party?” Morgan asks as she reaches for one of the cake stands. Tony barely manages to set her down on the floor before she tries to hop off the counter, cake in hand.

Said tea party is outside in the backyard on the picnic table by the dock overlooking the lake. 2am Tony tried to tie balloons to the table, benches, spare chairs and dock posts by the night lights of the dock, but that inevitably led to 2:30am Tony accidentally falling in the lake, and 2:45am Pepper had to come out and help him. He knows he’s been slow and nonchalant about the whole prosthetic deal, but it’s things like falling into a lake because he couldn’t tie some balloons with one hand that make him want to maybe...hurry up that process.

But then again, he’s got 4:30am Morgan, who woke up because she swears she heard Tony _opening the first package of icing,_ to be his extra hand. And then it’s back to dreaming of lazy lake days and juice pops and not worrying about some fancy metal arm. He can always...steal Barnes’. If he really needs it. Maybe he’ll get Rocket to do it.

They take the cakes, the teacups, trays, forks, knives, and lighter all out one at a time. Morgan is meticulous about their placement; he even sees her use her own sticky fingers to fix some of the sprinkles back into sugar volcano formation. It would seem that monstrosity was of her own planned design the whole time.

She lets out a yawn and a cute little squeak when she stretches her arms far above her head. She's definitely going to need a nap before the afternoon party kicks off. Her bare feet are covered in grass and Tony reaches down to brush some of it off as she settles on the picnic bench and asks, “When does Peter get here?”

And then just like a cheesy movie, he appears. Tony didn’t hear him pull in the drive, but there he is, rounding the side of the cabin, bypassing Morgan’s tent. He’s got some duffel bag of weekend supplies slung over one shoulder and Tony can’t help how his heart constricts with adrenaline. It’s been almost two months since he saw Peter for the first time in years on the rubble of the compound, but every time he sees him, it feels like how he saw Rhodey in the desert for the first time since he escaped, or how he saw Pepper for the first time after he thought she’d fallen to her death at the oil rig. He doesn’t know how long Peter will fit the imagery of a boy come home from war, but he’s not entirely opposed to the light headed happiness that comes with it.

Morgan takes a running start to meet him halfway. Tony can hear Peter shout out an elated, “Hey, Morgan!” before he drops his stuff so she can jump easily into his arms. His daughter’s giggles turn into loud shrieks as Peter lifts her and props her on his hip. Tony doesn’t know when Morgan brought out her ruined tiara but she has it now, squirming in Peter’s arms to put it on his head. He can see Peter’s crestfallen expression as he no doubt asks what happened, only to have Morgan excitedly explain that it’s her own doing. As Peter leans down to pick up his bag, Morgan points to Tony and the whole tea party set-up.

Even from that distance, Peter's grin is blinding.

He takes his time coming over, keeping Morgan propped on his hip and putting the crown back on her head. Tony can only hear pieces of Morgan’s excited mumble jumble as he’s too busy watching the amusing sight of Peter becoming more and more confused as he approaches the tea party. He notices the balloons - dozens in different colors, sure, but the biggest ones are shaped in important numbers just for Peter: 17, 18, 19, 20, 21. When Morgan finally wiggles out of his arms his gaze falls on all the cakes, set out between Morgan’s impeccably placed tea cups and saucers.

“What’s all this?” Peter asks softly, gently setting his duffel bag aside. His eyes don’t leave the table as he wanders over to stand by where Tony is sitting, wrapping him in a gentle hug and pushing his head into his chest. Tony smiles into the kid’s tee shirt before he tugs gently on the sleeve. Peter gets the message and leans down, allowing Tony to kiss his temple in greeting.

That pulls Peter out of his daze. “You threw me a birthday party,” he accuses, smile going all dopey and melty on his face.

“An _un_ birthday party,” Morgan corrects. “Like in Alice in Wonderland. For all the ones you missed!”

Peter’s mouth hangs open, words lost, face blank. The kid’s been handling coming back after five years fairly well, but Tony still sees him getting tripped up from time to time. For lack of a better metaphor, it’s like he and half the world woke up from a five year coma. Catching up, accepting what’s past, is a little hard to digest.

But Peter is _Peter,_ and he throws himself into adjusting with all he’s got. His smile comes back, this time focused on Morgan. “Thanks. It looks great.” He pulls Tony back into a hug once more before he gently taps his knuckles against his scarred cheek. “You feeling okay?” he asks quietly, hoping Morgan won't overhear as she fiddles with the candles on the cake.

Tony is _Tony,_ and while he’s never given up, recovery for him is always a slow process. He’s had good days, and he’s had really, really bad days all mixed together since he used that gauntlet. And Peter’s been there for them all, in some capacity. The kid has held his hand, slept in his bed, dragged him around the house in a wheelchair. When he’s not at the lake house he’s been on the phone with him for hours, trying to get him to forget his pain and fall asleep.

So it feels good when he tells the kid, with honesty, “Yep. Best day I’ve had yet.”

Peter pulls away to give him a large grin.

Once Morgan is satisfied with the candles, she pulls Peter down beside her on the picnic bench and this time, demands he keeps her tiara because he’s the unbirthday boy. “This one first,” she explains, pushing the cake a little closer to him. She reaches for the lighter left on the table but Tony is faster. As he lights all seventeen candles, she goes on, “I decorated this one. I put the gems from my crown on it ‘cause they look like the rainbow ones from that glove that Daddy used. D’you like it?”

Peter laughs. “I sure do, bug.”

“Make a wish,” Tony tells him once they’re all lighted.

“Don’t you want to light the others?” Peter’s confusion makes way for a small smirk. “It’s only five short of a hundred. Bet I can blow them out all at once.”

“Nope.” Tony gives a firm shake of his head and Morgan copies the gesture. “Five birthdays. Five cakes. Five wishes. One at a time. Now go on. Anything you want. You never know what might come true.”

Tony would know.

The kid’s eyes water a little at that, his smile wobbly but so so _gentle._ “Very true.” He gives the slightest nod of the head before he puffs out his cheeks and blows, the candles extinguishing in one breath.

“What’d you wish for? Tell me, tell me!” Morgan demands.

“Same thing I’ve been wishing for every day: that Dad is happy and healthy for a long, long time.”

His heart starts hammering with that same adrenaline, that same rush of dizzying warmth and familial love that he’s been chasing his whole life. “You’re supposed to wish for video games and Lego sets,” Tony teases, trying to distract from his own watery eyes. It’s only the first cake, he can’t lose it now.

Peter simply points to the other cakes. “I’ve got four other wishes.”

Morgan tugs on Peter’s sleeve and points to the cake. “May I have the slice with the red gem?”

“You _absolutely_ may have the slice with the red gem.” Morgan reaches for the knife, but once again, they’re faster. This time, Peter nabs it just in time. “Still no souvenir, huh.”

“Ugh,” Morgan groans.Her head falls against his arm. “He keeps saying it couldn’t go through customs. I don’t even know what that _means.”_

Peter clicks his tongue and carefully begins cutting a slice with the red gem. He makes sure it’s enough to send her into a sugar coma. “Typical. Well, you don’t need it.” He lets the cake fall onto the plate and Morgan’s eyes go wide as saucers. It’s easily the biggest piece of cake she’s ever had. Peter’s going to spoil her rotten, he can feel it. “We can have plenty of fun without it.” He cuts smaller pieces for Tony and himself. 

“We can play pirates versus mermaids later!” Morgan shouts. She throws her arms out in excitement, knocking over one of her tea cups. Peter catches before it hits the ground and sets in on the table before he grabs the matching teapot and starts pouring everyone _tea._ But Peter is quick to find out that Morgan has not acquired a taste for tea yet and it’s nothing more than lemonade. “I'll even let you be Pirate Queen."

"Wow. That's a real honor, Mo."

"We even have a _ship_   _this time._  Bigger than our canoe! Rhodey’s bringing a big, big boat so when everyone gets here later, we’ll all fit!"

“Ah, so there is a real barbecue. I can’t wait! Glad I wasn’t duped.”

Tony starts lighting the second cake as Peter pours the lemonade. “Of course. You’re my kid, so you get special treatment with the morning brunch.” Peter’s cheeks dust the same color as the red velvet cake, which he scoots his way. “But I promised a big unbirthday bash for all you dust bunnies that missed out on five years of partying, and a big unbirthday bash you shall get.”

“Good. Because this bag?” Peter gently kicks at it with the toe of his shoe. “It doesn’t have boring stuff like clothes. It’s got birthday presents.”

“Presents!?” Morgan squeals. “Do I get one?”

“Duh! You want it now?”

“Yes please!”

Peter pulls the duffel into his lap and Tony barks out a laugh when Morgan tries to stick her whole head inside like an ostrich in the sand. He starts pulling out little boxes likely filled with trinkets: the one wrapped the most carefully with fancy ribbon that May must have done is clearly for Nebula. The kid chattered over the phone with Tony every day for the last week about it, determined to get her something good because she’s never had a birthday present. Eventually, he pulls out Morgan's: some cartoon-ish plush that looks an awful lot like Spider-Man.

“It’s you!” Morgan giggles, snatching the plush from Peter’s hands. She holds it close to her chest.

“I made it alllll by myself. Whatcha think?”

When Tony can get a good look at it, he notices the homemade qualities: visible stitching, slightly crooked eyes, but overall it looks pretty good. He shouldn’t be surprised. Peter’s fairly good at sewing, if his old homemade Spidey mask is any proof.

“I love it! Thanks, Peter.”

He ruffles her hair before dropping a kiss on her head; the tiara slips off and two of them are a laughing mess as Morgan fits it back on his head.

Meanwhile, the cake is still burning; the wax from the candles is starting to drip on the cake, and Tony’s not about to let his all night baking adventure go belly up. “Okay, okay. Presents later. Make a wish before you burn down the picnic table.”

So he does, and they fall into a routine. Light the candles, make a wish, cut a piece of cake. They do it with the red velvet cake, the lemon pound, the chocolate. And every time, when Morgan demands he tell the table what he wished for, Peter says the same wish as before: That Tony's happy. His wish is always for Tony.

His kid is really quite the sap.

When they get to the rum cake, Tony pulls out a tiny little bottle of spiced rum and tosses it to Peter before he presses a single finger to his lips, loudly shushing. “Just this once,” he fake whispers. “I don’t care if you’re technically 21, you still gotta wait five more years, buddy.”

“What is it?” Morgan asks, trying to take the bottle. Peter holds it over his head, desperately trying to keep it from her. In the end, he manages to unscrew the top and down it one go before she can get it.

Peter’s face is priceless.

“Ugh. It’s _icky,”_ Peter whines. “Does the cake taste like this?”

Tony grins and cuts him a slice. “You’ll have to taste it and find out.”

As Peter and Tony play a game of Keep the Rum Cake Away From Morgan, another car starts weaving up the long drive to the lake house. The horn honks incessantly, and Tony knows exactly who it is. Morgan does too, judging by her excitement.

“Go on,” Tony tells her, and she’s already racing back towards the cabin to greet them. Peter turns to Tony, confusion blooming on his face. “Scott and Luis got here early. They’ve got the inflatable…” He does a roundabout gesture, “...catapult of sorts to set up. For the lake. When Bruce gets here, we’re gonna see who we can launch the highest when he jumps on it.”

Peter grins. “Well, Morgan. Duh. She’s the teeny tiniest.”

Tony gives a one armed shrug before he snags the gem off his slice of funfetti cake: yellow. “Agreed, but I don’t know if she’ll go on it without me. My bet is on you.” He licks the icing clean off.

“You’re gonna do it?” His eyes are wide with glee as he leans forward, elbows on the table. He presses his palms together. “ Oh, please say you’ll really do it.”

For his family, he’d do anything. He’s proven that. But he still likes to have a little fun. “I’ll do it if Nebula does it.”

“That’s fair,” Peter agrees. “Your birthday, your rules.”

Ah, crud.

Tony thought he’d hidden that pretty well. With all the world stitching itself back together, he was banking on most everyone just….forgetting. He sighs.  “...Pepper told you, huh.”

Peter’s smile goes all silly as he keeps one arm propped up on the table, resting his cheek against his hand. “No,” he says softly. “I never forgot. You’re talking to kid who read your biography cover to cover maybe _three times.”_

Tony hums, picking at his cake with a fork. In the past he’s thrown big birthday bashes for himself, but he wanted this birthday to be about Peter. The son he lost for five year. For Nebula, the kid who never had a birthday party before. For Sam, Bucky, Hope, T’Challa, Shuri, Strange, The Guardians, and everyone else who was gone. He wanted it to be about literally anyone but him.

But it seems Peter couldn’t let that slide.

He taps the bag again. “Full of presents, remember?” Peter keeps smiling.

“Kid-”

His argument dies out when Peter pulls out a gift from the bottom of the bag. Similarly packaged like Nebula’s, it’s covered in shiny red and gold ribbons. He gives it a little shake. “You want it now?” he teases. He raises it like he’s going to throw it but then decides against it. Instead, he swings his legs over the bench and comes to sit with Tony on the other side, pushing and nudging him until he makes room. He shoves the cake and plates around before he sets the gift in front of him.

Peter’s on his bad side, which Tony still isn’t fond of. He’s slowly started to accept the scarring on his face and neck, but he simply misses being able to wrap his arm around the kid and tuck him to his side in a casual hug. Peter, though, still leans into him, gently resting his head on his shoulder.

“Here, I’ll help.” He uses his right arm while Tony uses his left and they slowly unravel all the ribbon. Peter holds the bottom of the box down while Tony lifts the lid to reveal...candles.

Five candles.

“I missed your last five birthdays, too.” Peter whispers. “I didn’t know what get you. I was gone for five years,” his voice breaks a little on _years,_ and Tony lets his head fall to rest on top of the kid’s, hoping it’ll draw him closer. It does. “That’s so long and I..I just didn’t know what to get you. But I guess we think alike.” He gestures to the cakes on the table. “So, uh. Here’s your five wishes. Whatever you want to do. Any day you want. Especially if I have a Spanish test that day or something -”

“-Peter-”

The kid breathes out a laugh. “Just light the candle and tell me your wish. And we’ll do your birthday then. Re-do birthdays. And we can bring Morgan! And Happy, Pepper, Rhodey, even May - whoever you want. We could go to Coney Island, the beach, the zoo, Disneyland, maybe even NASA, if that’s something -”

“Yes.”

He blinks. “Yes to which one? NASA? Awesome! I’ve always wanted to go, but we only have to go if you want to. It’s your birthday, your wish, so -”

“No, I meant yes to all of it. I want all of that.” Tony lifts his head. “Bringing Morgan and anyone else who wants to come…I want to do all that stuff. With you. As a family. Those are all my wishes and every other birthday wish to come.” He uses his arm to reach over and pull the kid close, kissing him on the top of his head. “And I’ll have a lot of them.”

Peter’s eyes sparkle. “...Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be here to stay. We’ll get to all of those places, kid. We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees. “We’ve got time.”

In the distance, they hear Morgan shriek with laughter, followed by some frustrated shouting from Luis and some cackle at his expense from Scott. “That sounds like Morgan’s trying to drag the inflatable to the lake herself.”

“Can’t have that. I can go help. Wouldn’t want her to...” He pauses. “...fall into the lake.”

The shit-eating grin that Peter gives him makes his heart sink. He loves his wife, but in this instance, she’s just a little bit terrible. “...Pepper told you, huh?”

He pulls out his phone from his back pocket and shows him a picture texted to him from Pepper of 2:30am Tony looking like a drowned rat. “She's the best.” He’s positively _giddy._

“Okay, just for that -” He points a finger at him and hopes his grin doesn't betray his threatening pose. “I’m throwing both her and you in the lake.”

“Not if I push you in first.”

“You’re on.”

But it doesn’t matter. Because it’s not ten minutes later that Morgan tricks them and manages to push the _both_ of them in the lake.

It’s definitely the best birthday he's ever had.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic started really different and then I started changing a bunch of stuff and then it became pudding in my mind and in the doc and I just hghghdhgd I'm trying not to overthink fic it should be FUN so here take it, enjoy. This fic was inspired by a lil part in ladynerdynerd's peace in our time fic series so!!!! it's gotta be dedicated to her, right??? I hope that's okay with her!!!!!! that fic fucki ng sdghskhsg rocks. it rocks. it goes so hard, y'all.


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